


Stroke of Genius

by disco_agidyne



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Catboys, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disco_agidyne/pseuds/disco_agidyne
Summary: Fox tries to paint a subject that's captured his interest for a while. It seems, however, a certain catboy can't sit still.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Stroke of Genius

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for a collaborative project, and has a partner piece by MadameRinRin [here](https://twitter.com/MadameRinRin/status/1319350652766613505?s=20)!

Truly, Joker was an elegant sight to behold. 

Joker’s ears twitched to attention upon a clatter in the next room. He kept his deft movements tied to the shadows on the wall.

And yet even immersed in those pools of darkness, Joker’s piercing eyes still sparkled with a glint of excitement when he turned back to give his teammates the signal.

Joker was particularly breathtaking when he was completely immersed in his element, Fox noted. There was a certain mystique to Joker’s confident grins. It was the same curious mischief that allowed the Mona Lisa to captivate so many hearts and the same quiet mystery that had shrouded the Sayuri for so long.

And wearing one of those same grins, Joker shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders while his tail wafted back and forth like a flower in the breeze.

“Please, Joker. Sit still.” Fox’s brush had stilled while his eyes followed the sway of Joker’s tail.

Fox had initially been delighted when Joker had agreed to pose for him in Mementos, but as the afternoon wore on, his patience was being tested more and more. Joker’s attention span had reached its limit approximately an hour ago and Fox had found that getting his subject to stay in one place was a greater challenge than the painting itself.

“This jacket’s so stuffy,” Joker said, not bothering to actually take off the offending jacket and instead letting it hang on his muscles that had been toned by many a heist.

Fox added a pool of shadows to the canvas around the vague shape of Joker’s bicep as he made a mental note to update the jacket’s positioning. Again. At least Joker’s shoulder had gifted him with a lovely warm hue. “Odd. You’ve never complained before despite all the aerobics our heisting entails.”

“Never had time to. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m running through a sauna.”

That was certainly a sketch-worthy image. But alas, one for another time. “That may be so, but you’ll only prolong the process if you don’t remain still.”

“Prolong, you say?”

Fox lifted his eyes from the canvas only to jump back with a yelp, ears and tails at full frazzled attention at the sight of Joker peering over the easel.

“Impressive. You’ve really captured my likeness.”

Fox dragged a hand down his face. “Joker.”

Joker perked up. “Nyes?”

“Sit down.”

Joker stared at Fox for a couple seconds, then pointed at him. “There’s paint—”

Fox met Joker’s eyes with an intense glare. “Sit. Down.”

Joker sheepishly coiled his bangs around his finger. His eyes and ears twitched around, unsure where to focus as he settled back into position.

Fox relaxed and rolled back his shoulders. “Thank you.” He lifted his hand once more and pressed his leather clad finger to the canvas.

He froze, pressing his thumb against his index and middle fingers like a bewildered crab.

“Joker, have you seen my brush—”

And there it was, hanging in the air beyond his easel with Joker’s tail wrapped around it.

“Joker!” Fox reached over the canvas for his brush only to have it pulled away with a flick of Joker’s tail. “Return that at once!”

Joker’s eyes narrowed over a confident smirk. “Take it. I dare you.” His tail swayed back and forth with the brush, taunting Fox until he had no choice but to pounce.

And miss, diving nose first into a twisted rail.

“Are you okay, Fox?”

Fox pushed himself up and rubbed his nose just long enough to notice Joker at his side worriedly grasping his shoulder, with his guard utterly and completely down.

Fox’s second attempt at pinning Joker down was far more successful than the first, and in an instant’s time he’d completely turned the tables, straddling Joker down and pinning his wrists to the floor.

So why was Joker, disheveled and helpless under Fox’s weight, smugly grinning up at him like he’d claimed his own private victory?

Fox squinted down at his prey, who cracked into laughter at the sight. It was only then that Fox noticed his own comical reflection in Joker’s stormy eyes; his mask was askew over his paint streaked face. Though there was a part of him that wanted to scoff, Fox merely sighed. He cautiously released Joker’s arms and fixed his mask. “Are you done misbehaving?”

Joker held his arms parallel to his chest and curled in his hands until they resembled paws. “Am I?”

Fox gave Joker another frown.

Joker reached up and pawed Fox’s shoulder. “Haven’t you stared at me long enough?”

Fox plucked his brush from Joker’s tail and returned to his canvas. “Perhaps if someone could sit still, this wouldn’t have taken so many hours.”

Just as soon as Fox had settled back into his painting position, Joker draped himself over Fox’s lap, directly between Fox and his objective. “But look at it. You’re practically done. Don’t you only need a model for the sketch?”

“Have you never been made to suffer by the whims of the muses, Joker? Besides, I needed a reference for the color palette.”

“So in other words, Mementos’ no camera policy was the perfect excuse to let your eyes wander over my body all afternoon.”

“Not wander,” Fox corrected, matter-of-factly. “They were trailblazing a path for my brush.”

Joker hummed softly, incredulously, borderline accusingly.

Fox looked Joker over, hoping for an explanation written on the shapes and structures he’d practically memorized. “What is it you want from me?”

Joker’s tail  _ fwipped _ against Fox’s back. “A little honesty, that’s all.”

Fox straightened up, ears forward. “I’ve been honest.”

Joker opened his mouth to answer, then paused as he reviewed Fox’s expression. He pushed himself up, and sat himself more comfortably in Fox’s lap. “You... you’re really that dense?”

“What are you—” Joker pressed a finger to Fox’s lips, bringing them to a halt.

“A kiss. Maybe more.”

“Excuse m—”

Joker applied more and more pressure with his fingertip until Fox was forced to yield an inch or two. “That’s what I want from you.”

Fox looked down at Joker’s gloved hand, then said, slightly muffled, “I see.”

“So am I getting that or did I sit still for six hours for nothing?” Joker lowered his hand. His tail swept the ground behind him, over the dirt, the rails,  _ the paints— _ Fox winced.

“You counted?” The gears in Fox’s head finally started to turn. “Is THAT why you agreed to this?”

“Well, after the nude incident _ — _ ”

“Can we  _ please _ forget the nude incident?” Fox said sternly, more demand than question.

Joker’s ears and shoulders sank in a tandem sulk, and his jacket sank further down his arm. “Is it really such a crime to want to kiss a cute boy?”

Fox turned away, briefly wondering if the temperature in Mementos had changed. “N-no, I suppose not.” As his eyes drifted back, he caught Joker in a tiny smile. Fox lifted his hand to Joker’s ear, scratching just behind it until Joker’s smile broadened. “Even I can afford a kiss as a down payment.”

Joker pulled away and shook his head. Then he smirked at Fox with a raised eyebrow. “Down payment?”

“You’ll get the rest of your compensation if you can be a good boy until I finish.”

“...Dirty,” Joker teased in spite of the way his face matched the rosy turns of his broad shoulders.

“Says the one who assumed he’d be nude after being asked to pose for a portrait.”

Fox slid his hand down Joker’s jaw and scratched under his chin. Joker closed his eyes and leaned into it, his tail swaying happily. Fox stilled his hand, holding Joker’s chin between his thumb and index finger, and then leading forward until their lips met gently.

With a short flutter of his lashes, Joker pulled back and whispered, “I’d pull it off spectacularly, you know.”

“Yes, Joker.” Fox chuckled. “I’m well aware.”

When Fox lifted his eyes from the man before him, there upon his canvas was a black tail coated in the shades of midnight, sliding over his last twenty minutes of agonizing.

“ _ JOKER! _ ”

Joker’s ears flattened over his wild hair as he shrunk back. Fox’s jaw dropped and his eyes went hollow as they locked on to the smears streaked over the bottom right of the painting near what was once Joker’s waist.

“All of my hard work... ruined in an instant.”

“It... doesn’t look so bad,” Joker said with a forced, unconvincing shrug. “At least it wasn’t my face?”

Fox closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a slow exhale, he replied, “That’s true.”

“Plus it has that smudge there from earlier.”

“That was also your fault,” Fox reminded him.

Joker laughed weakly. “It wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t.” He took up his tail in his hand and picked at the paint coating his fur.

Fox’s eyes lit up. “Ah...!”

“I owe you an apology for messing up your painting.”

“No!” Fox pushed Joker aside as he leaned in closer to inspect the damage.

Joker frowned. “No?”

“This...” Fox turned around and pointed to the corner of the canvas. “This perfectly embodies the frustration I’ve endured all afternoon!”

Joker’s frown deepened. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

Fox took Joker by the shoulders. “By adding your own touch to the work, you’ve infused it with your true essence. Don’t you see?”

Joker looked over the painting, his face gradually scrunching up as his confusion grew. “A smudged butt... is my true essence...?”

Both sets of eyes settled on Joker’s paint-stained tail between them.

“Precisely,” Fox whispered, barely able to contain his excitement. “Ganymede’s perfection tainted by Cheshire’s mischief!”

Joker’s eyes shifted back and forth between Fox and the portrait. “You lost me.” He scratched his head, then looked at his hand, squinting at the paint on it that he’d already forgotten. “Does this mean we can make out now?”

“Joker, please assume your previous position. I need to finish the changes to your jacket.”

Joker heaved a sigh, but obeyed. “I sure hope this pays off.”

“Oh, it will, Joker,” Fox assured him with a confident smile. “It will.”


End file.
